


I Dance, therefore I am

by Valorem



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, 这！就是街舞 | Street Dance of China (TV), 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: Bottom Wang Yi Bo, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Healthy Communication, M/M, No Beta We Die Screaming, Open Relationships, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spitroasting, Very Very Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:21:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25528114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valorem/pseuds/Valorem
Summary: In a scale of 'stupid' hot and 'going to do something stupid' hot, where do I range?orWallace records Jackson and Yixing fucking Yibo for Xiao Zhan. That's it. That's the whole fic.
Relationships: Jackson Wang/Wang Yi Bo, Wang Yi Bo/Wallace Chung, Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan, Wang Yi Bo/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 35
Kudos: 166





	I Dance, therefore I am

**Author's Note:**

> I have not watched the episode yet, so forgive me for all mistakes. 
> 
> This isn't beta'ed. All mistakes are my own.

"Is this what you want to be reduced to? Our little slut?" 

Yixing's eyes are sharp on his face, he prowls toward Yibo like a lion settled in his own territory, shoulders pulled back, a predatory grin curving his lips in more regal beauty than any singular human had the right to possess. 

A cold shiver runs down Yibo's back. He's standing in between the other three captains, in only his black shirt; it comes to his thighs, the tip of his cock rubbing on the insides of the fabric. 

He's not been allowed any pants.

__

He's danced with his whole heart, he's _lived_ with his whole heart. Yibo doesn't remember being this happy in a long while. He bounces to the dining room, throwing himself on the chair next to Wallace with a grin, tugs the necklace out to rest more comfortably over his chest. 

Wallace smiles back at Yibo, grinning like a cat with a canary, then, "take off your underwear." He says abruptly, setting his chopsticks on the table and looking Yibo up and down.

Yibo chokes on his water. 

"Wh-what?" He coughs through his nose, Wallace helpfully smacking him in the back.

"Your underwear." Jackson said, daintily separating his greens into ordered categories, like this was a completely normal thing to ask of people, "you should take it off."

Yibo gapes, stomach tightening, half excited, half _petrified._

This _did_ mean what he thought it meant, right? It wasn't just people ribbing him for the sake of it? 

He looks across the table at Yixing; he and the Dance God might not be very close, but Yixing has Yibo's _trust_ , and he knows in his bones that Zhang Yixing wasn't the type to coerce anyone into doing anything. 

Lay is looking back at Yibo, something gentle in his eyes. _Say the word and it stops._ His face promises. 

Yibo stares, as Yixing bores into his own. Open and daring. Jackson and Wallace also look at Yibo, but there is nothing expectant about it, it was,- it was just _curiosity._

Suddenly, it goes from awkward and confused, to very _very_ hot. 

It's a thrill. He'd sit here, surrounded by cameras and his co-workers and the billions of people watching, and he'd have _nothing_ on under his pants - and no one would have the slightest clue, no one would even suspect it of sweet shy Yibo. 

Yibo's nerves light up in a rush of power. He scrunches the tablecloth in his hand, skin heating up. He wants it _so_ bad it's going to kill him.

____

Lay walks toward Yibo, curling one hand gently behind his ear, another, sinking into his freshly washed hair, "use your words, baby." He murmurs into Yibo's mouth, Yixing is standing a little on his toes to reach Yibo's height, but he's got a proprietary arm around Yibo's head and Yibo ought to be _worshipping_ this man.

He drops to his knees, carefully settling back on his thighs so he doesn't torture his knees anymore than he already has. Yixing hums a pleased sound, pulling Yibo's face to his coarse jeans, "you're made to be like this" he hisses with a soft awed sound, fingers tugging at Yibo's lips, "the _mouth_ on you." He nudges Yibo's face into his crotch, his filthy tongue such a juxtapose from his gentle warm hands that seem to cradle Yibo in their soft care. 

Yibo's skin breaks out in sweat, gathering wetly at his collarbones, "It belongs on cock." Yixing continues as Yibo tongues at his length through the denim. Yixing is sizeable and heavy in Yibo's tongue, the jeans hurt his tongue probably as much as it hurt Yixing's cock - straining against the cloth as it was, but neither of them complain.

Yixing moans when Yibo peaks his tongue out of his mouth, pressing the flat of its length over Lay's zipper. His fingers tightening in Yibo's hair, "come here Jackson." He rumbles, dick straining under Yibo's lips, hand curving to Yibo's jaw stretched under his cock, "sample him. He's a sweet dear thing, our little Yibo." 

Jackson stalks forward, bare feet padding on the ground. Yibo shivers. He's been semi hard since Jackson had taken his shirt off in the heat of the battle, the muscles rippling in his arms with the almost casual sensuousness of his power; if Yixing was a prowling lion staking claim on his territory, Jackson was something of an eagle, sharp and brilliant and ruling wherever he deigned to rove his imperial gaze on. 

He slides to his knees behind Yibo, thighs bracketing Yibo's own. He fondles them from behind, strong knuckles grazing his femur, dipping his fingers in for a glimpse in between, before gathering the flesh of Yibo's thighs in his hands and squeezing them. "You're so soft." Jackson sighs, voice tender. "You're so _so_ soft baby. I feel I would bruise you, if I were to kiss you a little hard." 

Yibo shook in his arms as Jackson grins delighted, "oh, but you'd like that wouldn't you? Quaint little marks of ownership." He spreads Yibo's thighs wider, before grunting and pulling Yibo into his lap instead, Yibo's legs falling open around Jackson's. 

Jackson buries his face in Yibo's neck, pressing a kiss to his hairline, "you need to talk baby." He says, voice heartbreakingly gentle. "This is great and all, but you need to be happy." 

Yibo coughs, Yixing's hand curving around Yibo's throat, just resting there, like he has no intention of moving it or doing anything to Yibo, just keeping his palm on his throat, thumb resting pliant and soft over his adam's apple. Yibo sighs. "This-" he coughs, as Jackson rubs reassuring circles over his thigh, "this is good for me." 

___

It would be quite shameful if Yibo could bring himself to care.

He slinks off to his dressing room, mercifully empty, and takes his pants off. The fabric brushes over his over sensitised skin as it slides down, curving down his hips. Yibo carefully tugs it over the bruise in his knee, until it pools to his bare feet. He pulls the plaid tighter around himself. 

Its such a bare vulnerable feeling, to be laid out like this, like he's nothing but a plain wanton thing that exists for the thrill of living, of pushing himself to impossible limits just to chase the feeling of _life,_ its _intoxicating,_ Yibo can't get enough of it. 

He toes his pants off, standing in the room on his shirt and soft underwear. 

There is a disproportionately large mirror on the room, running full length over the wall, it captures Yibo in a sultry moonlight, highlighting the tan in his arms and the paleness of his thighs, his briefs cradling his cock and balls inside them like they were of any actual use to protect his modesty. He cups himself through the fabric, thumbing at his tip. He's already so _wet._

Yibo grabs his phone, and before he can change his mind, captures a mirror selfie, sending it to his boyfriend - 

_Yibo_ : _In a scale of 'stupid' hot and 'going to do something stupid' hot, where do I range?_

He presses send on Oasis, hoping abstractly for a moment that _their_ fans were happy at the little candy, before the dots of Xiao Zhan's replies already show up on his screen. 

Yibo shifts from foot to foot. If his boyfriend said 'no' that would be _it._ Their relationship was still relatively open whenever the fancy struck, but both of them had the tendency to get absurdly jealous out of the blue. 

Yibo's phone beeps. 

_Xiao Zhan_ _: You look like_ **_'we_ ** _are going to do something stupid' hot. Honestly sweetie, if it wouldn't create a scene, I'd have showed up there_ _in_ _the floor you humped and fucked you there myself._

Yibo's dick flutters in his briefs, he presses his thumb back to the tip, as the dots reappear on his screen. Xiao Zhan is still typing.

 _Xiao Zhan_ _: Lay already told me. 😉 Take a video for me. I want to see everything. 🥵🥵_

Yibo rubs his hands together over the phone, tugging his underwear off and shoving it into his used laundry bag, pulling his pants back on top. 

His cock hangs between his legs, obscene and half hard and clearly visible through the fabric. He resists the urge to rub himself off and joins the others for hotpot. 

____

Jackson presses little kitten kisses to Yibo's neck, with Lay's hand still curved around his throat in a possessive sure grip; Yibo feels a little like an overwrought eager to please puppy held by his scruff. He moans, an obscene throaty sound tearing free of his fraying threads of control.

He hears their corresponding groans as though from a great distance; Yixing pulling Yibo's face back to his crotch, his other hand tugging at his zipper. Yibo nudges his face between his zipper and his hand enthusiastically. 

Jackson's hands have skirted up Yibo's body, grazing over his stomach to rest on his chest, large hands covering his pectorals as Jackson gathered the tight flesh in them, and _squeezed._

Yibo gasped arching into it, face jerking forward. His nipples tighten, pushing up and interested into Jackson's palm.

Yixing's hand on his jaw slackens, moving instead to curl into his hair as he pulls Yibo's mouth into his cock. 

Yixing is _long_.

Yibo's jaw stretches around his girth, Yixing's cock hitting the roof of Yibo's mouth before encountering his non-existent gag reflex and sliding right in. Yibo gasps as Lay bottoms out, breathing through his nose as Yixing's cock rests in the warmth of his throat. 

He tries swallowing. 

Yixing cries out, knees almost buckling, hands tightening to vices in Yibo's hair. "You little minx." He breathed, a hoarse half laugh in his throat. "You're going to kill us all one day, and we're going to be too busy being charmed to notice." 

He thrusts his hips slightly into Yibo, before, "show him how it's done Jackson." 

Jackson huffs an amused laugh behind Yibo. "That's so cheesy." He giggles, as he tugs down his pants, nuding his cock against Yibo's opening where he'd been prepared and waiting for hours. 

____

Yibo squats in his chair, debating crossing his legs, but that would probably only make him look even more ridiculous. Not that he needs any help in that regard.

He drags his chair closer to the table until his elbows lay flush on the tablecloth and he can cross his ankles beneath. 

Wallace sneaks a hand in between them, squeezing at Yibo's knee, fingers skirting up to pat shamelessly at his crotch.

Yibo flushes, turns around to look at his co-captain.

Wallace has a heated look on his usually approachable gentle sweet face, "you listened." His voice is awed, he squeezes Yibo through the fabric again, thumb resting where Yibo's dick peeks out a little, as though asking to be petted. Wallace swallows visibly. "You _listened,_ you good sweet boy." He murmurs. Yibo whimpers, cock hyper sensitised under the pressure from Wallace's palm, the nylon of the fabric grazing him everytime he so much as _breathes_. He tries not to thrust up.

Yibo turns to look at Jackson and Yixing sitting across him, with some effort. They're _both_ slightly flushed, a healthy glow to their skins as they look between Yibo and Wallace like they'd much rather have Yibo on the table instead. 

"Xiao Zhan wanted a video." Yibo finally manages, looking back down at his food. Its hard to maintain anonymity, to be careful of how loudly he says his boyfriend's name lest their open secret got a lot more open than it already was. 

Wallace nods, "I will do the honors." He promises solemnly, thumping Yibo on the back, accepting Yibo's phone as he passed it over, "is this locked and protected for you?" He asks, carefully dropping it into an inner jacket pocket.

Yibo looks at him, something soft lighting up in his stomach, it's such a little thing, and _yet_ ,- people, _real_ people cared so much about each other. He's among _friends_ , Yibo is _safe_ , the only way he'd be any more protected was if he was curling up in Xiao Zhan's arms in their bed. 

He smiles warmly at Wallace. "It is, yes." And then, "don't _you_ want to join?" 

Wallace just grins at Yibo, "aiyaah! You kids have fun." He grins like a happy cat, "I'll shoot the footage to give your lovely boyfriend the jerk off material of a lifetime." He looks at Yixing and Jackson, "two of the best looking men of our time and his gorgeous beauty of a lover." Wallace looks a bit wistful, eyes distant, "Xiao Zhan is a better man than I." 

Xiao Zhan was a far better man than _most_ , but that had nothing to do with anyone else, and was only Yibo's private opinion. Intellectually speaking _._

The conversation peters off after that, except when Jackson reaches out under the table to toe at Yibo's balls, his big toe digging into nudging under his dick, the swell of his feet resting on Yibo's thigh, like a claim staked. Yibo had come embarrassingly close to begging from just that. He’s not particularly proud of it.

Before they sulk off to their rooms, Yixing corners Yibo, pressing a packet of lube into his palm, "prepare yourself and wait for us." He says, voice warm and dark in promise.

____

Jackson groans as he sinks into Yibo, his friend is hefty in girth, broad and long and with a dancer's strength. He holds Yibo's waist tight enough to bruise, fingers digging into his abs with enough control for Yibo to come. 

_So? He gets off on command. Sue him._

He gasps into Lay's cock, nosing into his balls, drags his hands up from Lay's ankles to sink into his still jean clad thighs. Yixing groans appreciatively, body waving in a sensuous siren dance, reaches a hand back to lace his fingers with Yibo's. 

Yibo holds on tight, tries not to think of how it would usually be his boyfriend's small slender digits in between his own, the way Xiao Zhan would always hold Yibo's hand as though the time they had was limited, and he wanted to cherish Yibo as much as he could in the meanwhile. 

Tears sting his eyes; homesickness was such an overdone emotion, Yibo should be used to it at this point… maybe he’s just exhausted. He tries to blink them away before the others notice, takes more of Lay into his mouth as Jackson bottoms out. 

It's a scalped through emotion, like a live-wire, like a toy used for pleasure _alone_ between them, their co-captain casually cupping himself through his trousers, as he taped Yibo being fucked by men that were not Xiao Zhan. It’s everything he wants, a little too much of it. 

For all he tries to not be visible, his friends notice.

Jackson croons at him from behind, curling his arms around Yibo's waist so they are flush into each other, his front plasters to Yibo's back, he leans forward to kiss Yibo's stretched neck.

Yibo groans, noise muffled into Lay's cock, as his friend moves a little forward, Yibo settling more securely into Jackson's lap, head thrown back as Lay slides further into him. He's got one hand on Yibo's hair, the other on his jaw, tight and secure and _protective._

It’s oddly grounding, like he can breathe again. 

Jackson and Yixing move in complete sync, like they’ve done this a million times, _and wasn’t that a thought_ , Yibo tugged in wherever they took him, pliable and wanton. 

Jackson drags his hand down, digs his fingers to the inside of Yibo's thighs, pulling his legs further apart, obscenely on display for Wallace's recording. He thrusts into Yibo sharply, powerful hips catching exactly right into Yibo, until _oh!_

Yibo gasps, moaning like he’s been paid for it around Lay's cock. Yixing makes a soft sound like a sob, curls forward, fingers scrabbling into Yibo's scalp.

Jackson's hips move faster, Yibo has been on edge for hours, he whimpers mercy on Jackson's cock, where Yibo is fitted snugly around him like a well loved sleeve.

Jackson rucks Yibo's shirts up, pulling it up to his armpits, holding them back with a hand around his throat, squeezing Yibo's neck as Yixing thrusts down into it, massaging Lay's cock through Yibo's throat.

His other hand curls loosely over his dick, and Yibo is _gone_.

He groans weakly under Lay's cock, tightening around Jackson inside him, fingers scrambling at Jackson's skin plastered to his own. 

Its an all consuming feeling, his whole body tightening like a shard of lightning, mouth softening around Lay's cock.

He feels like he comes for hours, like his orgasm has been wrung out from somewhere deep within his exhausted wanton body, a scratch that only Xiao Zhan could _ever_ scratch, his boyfriend's perfect beautiful eyes, and perfect beautiful face and perfect beautiful _heart_. He feels like he has enough love in him to fill the whole core of the earth and still have residues to feed into all the broken fissures. 

Yibo makes a wet gasping noise when Lay pulls out, sagging into Jackson's arms, his hips firm against the globes of Yibo’s ass.

Lay drops to his knees before Yibo, gathering the cum smeared around Yibo's mouth and pushing it back in. 

"You're so stunning." He breathes with wonder, cradling Yibo's hips carefully as he tugs him off of Jackson's cock. Yibo's hole twitching feebly and clenching raw and empty in the air. 

He pulls Yibo in to rest on his chest. "Did you get everything?" He murmurs over Yibo's head. 

Wallace nods in Yibo's periphery, sweat-soaked and sated;- "I'm sending it to Xiao Zhan." He thrums, running a finger down Yibo's hair, tenderly. 

The warmth of Jackson behind his back disappears, "I'll get something to clean us up." He says quietly, stumbles a little when he climbs to his feet. Wallace pulls away from Lay and Yibo to go help.

Yibo sags further into Yixing's warm hands and closes his eyes. 

When he comes to, Wallace is pressing his phone into his hand, he's tucked into the bed, warm and fresh, even his clothes have been changed. 

Yibo nuzzles into the pillow sleepily, pulls his phone to his chest. 

"Thankyou" Jackson says, pressing his lips to his forehead, Yibo smiles in a languid half curve, turning into the kiss. Yixing is on Yibo's other side, petting his hair. "Get some rest, love." He says softly. "We'll see you later." 

He knees off the bed, Jackson following him, Wallace turning the night light on behind them.

Yibo turns around on the bed, after they shut the door, pulls the comforter more securely under his chin, and opens his phone, calling Xiao Zhan. 

His boyfriend looks soft, grins at Yibo even as the call connects, "Did you have fun?" He asks, fingering at the screen as though he could reach Yibo through all the miles between them.

Yibo nods, too tired to respond, and then, "Missed you." He mumbles after a breath or two. 

Xiao Zhan huffs a sad laugh. "I miss you too, sweetheart." He says gently. 

Yibo presses his finger to Xiao Zhan's own. "Wallace just sent me the video" he grins, "I'll watch it in a while."

Yibo nods, yawning with a small stretch. "You're so tired baby" Xiao Zhan's eyes are fond. "You should sleep." 

Yibo hums in agreement, tugs his phone charger to himself and plugs it on. "Stay with me?" He asks, settling into the pillows. 

Xiao Zhan smiles, adoring and besotted as always.

"Forever."

___

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3am, after watching a few too many clips of the captains dancing, forgot about it, fell asleep and woke up to a draft. I promptly had to post it, because I don't have common sense or survival instincts. I'm too tired to edit this, so - not my proudest moment. Please do not judge me too harshly for this. 
> 
> My twitter is [V](https://twitter.com/_Valorem_?s=09)


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